My Older Brother Jareth
by Ichobana Rose
Summary: A series of oneshots that kind of sort of maybe just a little bit connect, about my shenanigans with the goblin king. All ideas were given to me by someone else, so if you have an idea let me know! XD
1. The Sarah Incident

Hi guys! this story was written in response to Nae'ka's challenge in the story "121 Ways to Annoy, Haras, or otherwise Bother Jareth." Look at the first chapter of that story, number 14.

**My Older Brother Jareth**

Now I know the first thing that you are going to ask me is "Wait a second, I thought Sarah was the only human to visit the Labyrinth?"

Psh, yeah right.

Let me tell you something about Jareth and I. He was practically my big brother. I'd called on him on accident once when I was little, and before he was so prideful and consumed by evil-ness he was actually a pretty nice guy, and had carefully explained to me what I had done to summon the gobbling-king to my bedroom at six years old. I don't remember much from that visit.

Though I didn't know it at the time, I had been carrying a deadly disease inside me for a long while. Jareth had sensed this the first time he'd met me, so (though I didn't know it until later) had kept careful track of me to make sure I was alright. Eventually, my disease landed me in the hospital, surrounded by balding doctors scratching their heads over my mysterious case. Meanwhile, I grew weaker and weaker. One day, I was too weak to lift my head off the pillow, and the doctors took my parents outside my room to talk quietly of my impending death.

It was then Jareth had appeared for the second time. I saw him appear, but was too weak to cry out. I was eleven now.

I remember Jareth had crossed the room with a flourish, and placed the thumb and forefinger of his right hand on my temples.

"Heal," he whispered.

I was instantly more aware of where I was, and began to pepper the goblin king with questions. I guess he was still in his "alright guy" phase, so he patiently answered every one of them, waiting for me to go to sleep. He explained to me that he'd been watching me for years, and agreed that he would still keep in touch with me if I chose. He even promised to take me to visit the Labyrinth itself someday. Then the doctors came back into the room, and were of course astonished at my recovery.

When I was twelve Jareth started giving me tours of his kingdom, and introducing me to his subjects. I learned my way around quickly, despite the ever-changing walls and gardens. Jareth was like my older brother, practically helping me grow up.

Soon, my parents deemed I had been homeschooled long enough, and enrolled me in a public highschool. Jareth visited me less and less. However, one visit had a profound impact on me.

He had reached his "high-and-mighty" phase now, and had begun to treat me more like a subject than a friend. I had noticed, but kept quiet. He told me on this visit all about Sarah, and how he was so in love with her, and what he'd done to her, and now he was regretting letting her go and wanted her back and wanted (ordered) me to tell him how to get her back.

I was appalled. How could this be my Jareth, my older brother? My healer? Was this the same man to whom I owed my life?

I, who was sympathizing with Sarah (with whom I went to school, ironically) refused to tell him how to get her back.

Jareth then got up on this soapbox about how he was so deserving of my gratitude and blah blah blah because he'd saved my life, but I still refused to tell him. Sarah didn't like me much, but I wasn't about to sign her up for _that_. So Jareth resolved to throw me into an oubliette, which he did with great gusto.

Which is where you find me now.

I'm just a normal fifteen year old girl, with black hair and grey eyes, wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a normal t-shirt. Sitting in a dark oubliette where my only company is spiderwebs.

Great.

Soon I hear a scuffling off to my left. It's Hoggle, and I squeal with delight. It's been a long while since I'd seen him. I guess he's resolved to check the oubliettes more often now, just incase there is another pretty girl trapped in one that might give him jewelry. I, who was always prepared with a cheap ring that cost like a quarter, bought my way to freedom, and soom found a place where I could wish myself home without interference from Jareth.

Naturally, when I get home, I'm pretty mad at Jareth. He's such a chauvinist pig. I have school in the morning and my big brother is going and throwing me into an oubliette! I mutter angrily to myself as I fall asleep.

The next day at school I am walking around, minding my own business, when who should push past me and slam me into a locker but _Sarah herself_. I begin to see red. It's _her_ that Jareth wants, it's _her_ fault that I was cast into the dank oubliette last night, and left with no time to do my homework. Grr. I'm fuming.

But then I see something interesting, that makes all my anger vanish momentarily. Sarah pushed past me to meet _him_. Garette. Her _boyfriend_. I'd been frightened of what Jareth would do to my boyfriend if I'd ever gotten one, but apparently Sarah wasn't. She proceeded to pull Garette into a corner in glue herself to him.

At first I turn away, but then an idea comes to me. I discreetly pull my digital camera out of my purse and snap a picture. I'm gone before Sarah and Garette can discover the source of the sudden flash.

At home, I set to work with my awesome photo-editing software. I carefully blur Garette's face to protect him from attempted murder. No need to have innocent blood on hands, right?

I carefully print out several copies of the picture, and then prepare for my journey to the Labyrinth. I dress in grubby old jeans, a baggy t-shirt, and sensible sneakers, suitable for running fast. Very fast. Hey, I have no idea how far Jareth's newfound evil-ness would go.

When I'm ready, I utter the words that will take me to the world where my ex- older brother ruled:

"I, Ichobana, healed by Jareth's gracious magic, wish humbly to come to the place where my older brother, the goblin king, rules."

I hope that being long-worded and specific would eliminate any traps Jareth may have set for intruders. However, I am transported safely, and land, luckily, just outside the goblin city. The guard recognizes me and lets me through immediately, where I shuffle the stack of pictures, and set to work. I staple and tape the pictures all over the goblin city, in the public squares, and by the communal fountain, and the rest of them I take right up to the castle itself. Holding my breath, I walk in.

The castle is quiet; I assume Jareth is away somewhere. Treading quietly, I begin to tape the pictures up on the walls. I finally reach his bedroom, where I have only one picture, I am uncomfortable intruding into Jareth's private quarters, but my sense of revenge is overpowering. I climb onto his immense four-poster bed, and carefully tape the last picture where he will see it right as he lays down to sleep at night. I have no doubt that he will see it, because all goblins can see it the dark, as Jareth had told me.

Then I run.

I tear out of the castle, out of the goblin city, but I haven't gotten past the junkyard before I hear a thunderous roar behind me, followed by the shaking of the earth, causing junk to fall on top of me. But I struggle through it. I have to make it outside the Labyrinth itself before I can wish myself home without Jareth preventing me from doing so.

But soon I hear the fluttering of an angry owl's wings behind me, and I have no choice.

"I wish I could go home!" I cry, diving under an ancient, crumbling bed.

I wind up inside Jareth's castle, in the hole in the middle. I scramble to my feet as Jareth descends upon me. He pins my arms to my sides, and throws me up against a wall. His face is contorted with rage, and, despite my situation, I laugh.

This does not help my situation. Jareth drops me on the floor and stalks off to the other side of the room. I continue laughing until my side hurts. Finally, the laughter subsides, and I am gasping on the floor. Jareth senses my weakness and swoops over to me again, this time picking me up by the front of my shirt, and holding me against the wall.

I giggle.

"Jareth," I say, "You have no power over me. You know that."

His face is still red as he answers. "Why on earth did you feel the need to reopen the wound that Sarah left on my heart when she left?"

I decide it wise not to laugh at this point, but I do smile. "Jareth," I say, "You and I both know that you really have no love for anyone except me, and you're just jealous that all women don't come drooling at your feet. You're jealous that there are other guys out there for us to drool over."

His grip momentarily tightens, but then he drops me again. He doesn't let me go completely however. His arms are still on either side of me, so that I can't move. I smile at him some more.

"You know I…care…for you?" He avoided tossing the word "love" around. He had for as long as I'd known him.

"Yep," I smilingly replied.

"And…do you?"

I pursed my lips to think. Jareth leaned in, but I stopped him by putting my head on top of his head.

"Jareth," I mock-scolded, "I am much too young for you."

Jareth was about to protest, but I held up a hand to stop him.

"I know, I know," I said, "You are immortal and won't age anymore and so it doesn't matter, right? Well, then, why don't we wait a few years, babe? Until then you can keep being my big brother. But!" and I allowed my eyes to flash at him, "You have to be really, really good, understand? No more of this 'high-and-mighty' nonsense, understand?"

Jareth nodded, dumbfounded.

I smiled brightly again, and kissed his cheek. Then I wished myself home using a spell he'd taught me long ago, that would only work once.

I must say, I left behind a very bewildered goblin king.


	2. The Farm Incident

this idea was given to me by Code Green, since there really ARE escaped convicts running around in my area and my boss really IS making me get people to come out and help me feed her horses so i won't do it by myself. Code Green told me that there was a certain goblin king watching out for me, and well...

**The Farm Incident  
**

Okay, so it had been stupid to come to work today. There were two escaped convicts on the loose.

So I should have called my boss when I found out that no one could come help me feed horses.

So I should have told her that I couldn't do it by myself, being a teenage girl.

So she should have waited to feed the horses until she was home with her husband.

But, no I thought. Those two escaped convicts wouldn't stick around the city long.

Maybe I should listen to my gut more often.

I stood facing the two men, trying not to shake with fear. They both towered over me, leering, slightly sleepily. I remembered seeing their faces on TV. Both of them brutal killers, one of whom had escaped prison before. And I had startled them awake by banging into the feed room like I always did, ready to do my work.

They had jumped up immediately, only looking around briefly to see the cause of the door slamming open. I think they must have seen my feet as I headed in the opposite direction, or heard me, but both of them were soon after me.

And their legs were longer than mine.

Belatedly, I realized the car would be a bad idea to escape to. They were too hot on my heels; once I had gotten the door open they could follow me right in, and that would not have been good. However, I was tempted to try it because both my keys and my cell phone were sitting in the driver's seat. Besides, they might try to take my keys and drive off in my car, _with_ my phone. That wouldn't have been good either.

Being a good American, I chose to save the technology rather than myself, and headed towards the car.

I threw open the door and grabbed the keys and phone, just in time to turn and see a large body barrel into mine, knocking me back into the car. My hip landed painfully on the parking brake, and I whimpered slightly. However, the man on top of me was slightly dazed, giving me enough time to whip out the small and rather puny pocket knife I kept in my pants to cut hay bale twine with. Still, it was a weapon.

The convict who was _not_ on top of me dragged his accomplice away from me, wanting his own piece of me. Realizing that this was my only chance, I sprang forward and pointed the sharp end of my knife at them.

Bad idea.

Before I could blink, the larger of the two (the one who had escaped prison before) knocked the puny pointy object out of my grasp, flinging it away towards the long grass in the yard. I tried to scramble into my car, but I was pulled out of it by the scruff of my neck, and dropped to the ground. I heard my flimsy t-shirt rip.

The horses were whinnying nervously around me, but they were held back by their own prey instinct and the electric fence.

I didn't blame them.

I was about to _become_ prey.

"Get up," one of the men growled at me. It wasn't a choice. Roughly, he grabbed the back of my shirt in his huge hand and turned me around, slamming me against the side of the car. Without warning, he ripped the rest of my t-shirt off of me, leaving me in just my bra. He pressed his meaty body against mine as he forcefully took my car keys and my cell phone from me, and threw them back into the driver's seat where I had left them. Too late to call 9-1-1.

"All right girlie, I'll make you a deal," the man sneered in my face.

I had to try very hard to resist choking. His breath was _terrible_.

"Or how about you make a deal with _me_?"

This was a new, male voice, though it sounded awfully familiar. The man on top of me shoved himself away. Another person could mean another cell phone. Or the police.

But the new voice didn't belong to a person the convicts would have recognized. Both of them, and me, gaped at the newcomer. He was blonde, and his hair was long and stood up in all directions. He wore a black suit of formidable-looking armor, with a black cape flowing about him. His eyes, which were boiling with restrained fury only a goblin king was capable of possessing, were mismatched. One was blue, while the other was brown.

"Jareth!" I cried, only to be shoved back against the car.

The convict who had _not_ been on top of me now held my knife against my throat. "Don't you move, mister, nor call the police," he growled. "I'll slit her clean open, so help me!"

Jareth threw back his head and laughed. "You think I need the police to take care of scum like you?" he asked.

The sky darkened. Black, angry, thunderheads rolled in from seemingly nowhere, blotting out the sun. The horses panicked and galloped about their pastures, trying to find a way to escape the sudden storm.

Startled, the big man pressed my knife harder against my throat. I tried very hard not to breathe, though I could feel my heart pounding against the blade.

"Now, what about that deal?" Jareth's mouth moved, but his voice came from _everywhere_.

"C'mon, let's go!" the convict who did not hold me said nervously. "Just leave her, she's not worth it!"

"She'll tell, unless I modify her memory," the big one said. Staring hard at Jareth, he took the knife from his partner and dug the point into my skin. I screamed from the pain, though I didn't think he would kill me just yet. His big hand slid to my bare stomach, and he grabbed for the fastener of my jeans.

"Jareth!" I screamed, closing my eyes.

Abruptly, I dropped to the ground, curling into a ball instinctively as I heard the screams begin. There is nothing more bone-chilling than to hear two grown men screaming for their lives as they are burned to cinders, struck by lightning.

Whimpering, I curled tighter into my ball, trying to slide under my car until it was over.

Suddenly, there was silence.

I stayed in my position, curled into a ball, half under my car. I was sure that whatever Jareth had done had backfired, and now the two convicts were going to come back to me. It was too quiet.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt the fabric land on me. I grabbed the cloth and held it to myself. It was Jareth's black cloak.

"Ichobana?" I heard his voice ask, from quite close by. "Icho? Are you alright?"

A hand rested on my shoulder, and I cringed away from it. He pulled back.

I lay there, whimpering, for who knows how long. Long enough for the sky to lighten with the dissipation of Jareth's storm, long enough for the horses to calm down.

"I'm right here, Icho," Jareth whispered soothingly. He didn't try to touch me.

Realizing that it would probably be a good idea to get off the ground, I slowly uncurled myself and stood up shakily. Turning away from Jareth, I re-fastened my jeans and pulled his cloak tighter around myself.

"Are the horses okay?" I asked shakily.

"Yes. They're all fine."

"Can you call my boss and tell her that I'm not going to be able to feed?"

"Yes." The next thing I knew, I was hearing my voice speaking into my cell phone, although I knew Jareth was forming the words.

As he spoke, I could feel his worried eyes on me. He was probably wondering if my brain was messed up or something.

Of course, I wasn't so sure I was all there myself.

When my boss had confirmed that she would feed her horses later that night with her husband, the goblin king hung up the phone and placed it gently on the driver's seat. I could tell he was waiting for me to crack like a nut.

"Did you…kill them?" I asked faintly. Briefly, I wondered if it was a bad thing that I was shaking so terribly.

Jareth hesitated before answering. "Yes…I did."

I groaned and threw up. He held my hair as I emptied myself. When my body was finally too weak, from the adrenaline, from the beating it had endured, from purging itself, I turned and threw myself into the goblin king's arms. I was sure that the crack in my mind was audible to Jareth as the tears started to flow. Luckily, his armor had disappeared, so I was crying into the softness of a black poet shirt. As I sobbed, two strong arms came around me, and a chin rested on my head.

"Shh," my goblin king whispered. "It's over now."

I felt his hand stroke my hair and I sobbed even harder. I barely noticed when the smell of the air changed, signifying that we were now in the Labyrinth itself. I did notice, however, when Jareth moved me to sit down on a bed. I stiffened, but he didn't let me out of his grasp.

"I thought you might need some time to recover before you return home," he murmured in my ear. "When you return, it will be as if you had never left the farm. The police will find the remains of those criminals and think they were struck by lightning, and you were extremely resourceful and dove under your car, saving your own life. You will be regarded as a lucky sort of hero."

I laughed through my tears, sniffing as I pulled myself closer to him. He cradled me in his arms as if I were a child.

"Oh, Icho," he said, "I will never let anyone hurt you. Remember that."

When my sobs had subsided, I pulled back to face him. He studied my face for a moment before setting me down in the bed.

"I think you need sleep before you return."

"My eyes are swollen that much, huh?" I asked, smiling wryly.

"A gentleman would never point such things out." As he said this, he was grinning.

"Right, because subtlety is your middle name."

The goblin king laughed out loud before he kissed my forehead. "I'll leave you."

"Wait!" I caught his arm as he stood. For some reason, my heart had started to pound frantically when he had gotten up to leave.

I guess he saw my feelings in my eyes, because his softened and he sat back down. "Icho," he said, "Are you ready for me to become more than your older brother figure?"

I looked down. "I just…don't want to be alone."

"You of all people should know that you, Ichobana, will never be alone. I will always be at your side to protect you."

I looked into his eyes. His mismatched orbs bore into mine.

Then I yawned, ruining the moment.

Sighing, Jareth smiled and helped me to slide under the covers. When I was securely tucked in, he laid on top the blankets and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

"Sleep, Ichobana."


	3. Of Dramatic Goblin Kings

ok, so I guess where I got the idea for this one is pretty self-explanatory...this was mainly just an outlet for everything that been going on...anyways, hope you like, maybe the next installment will be better.

**Of Dramatic Goblin Kings**

You know, men's minds are funny things.

To me, it seems like sometimes they speak a completely different language. You know, like how they act like they aren't interested in you THAT WAY (or they know FOR CERTAIN that you aren't interested in them), and then when they find out that you are interested in someone else they get all jealous and huffed up? You've given them no indication that you want to be more than just their friend (or surrogate little sister, in my case), but they still think that you are their property? Imagine that with POWERS.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

It started a few months after the farm incident, in which Jareth saved me from some creeps that would steal my virtue, as well as my life. So I guess he did have reason to act possessive of me. And it was nice for a bit. Every girl likes to feel like they have someone watches over them and protects them constantly. So I was good.

Until Samuel came along.

Now I'd known Samuel since before the farm incident. He went to my church and we had talked a bit. He was a pretty nice guy. But after the farm incident we started REALLY talking. Getting to know each other. Talking to our parents about each other. You see the direction I'm heading here?

We're not past the getting-to-know-each-other-better-to-make-sure-this-is-a-good-idea stage yet, but Jareth is all in a huff about it. I mean, he IS the goblin king, so I guess he's pretty used to getting what he wants all the time. But I'd been under the impression that this particular aspect of his character had been improving.

Apparently not.

So as I sit here, locked by myself in a room in the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, Jareth and I are having a shouting match.

"This is ridiculous, Jareth!" I yell. "You're completely overreacting! What's the big deal anyways?!"

"You know perfectly well!" he roars back childishly.

"I would if you would tell me!"

This silences him for a while. I think of how human men back home don't like to talk about their feelings. I'd seen it in several of my guy friends when I would bug them about girls they liked, or in asking one of them why he was depressed that Sam and I were talking, or even in talking to Sam himself.

"You're lucky I didn't send you straight to the dungeon," I hear Jareth growl from the other side of my door.

Looking back, I realize this is probably true. "Why would you want to send me to the dungeon anyways?' I ask, just loud enough that he can hear me through the door.

Once again, there is silence from the other side of the door. It stretches until I begin to worry that Jareth has left me here alone, and has gone back to the human world to cause some mischief, presumably to people I knew personally.

"You are allowed to leave your room only under the condition that you stay on the palace grounds," he says finally, and I hear the sounds of his boots on the stone floor. Walking (stomping?) away from me.

Exasperated, I drop onto the bed, face-first in a pillow, and heave a sigh. Really, it's not such a bad room. I assume it's one of the guest rooms in the palace reserved for visiting diplomats or some such. And once you get past the dark and scary version of the palace that normally scares such visitors away, it's really a nice place. Seriously, the whole back half of it is quite luxurious. The gardens are really quite lovely.

As I lie on the bed considering each vain attempt of escape that comes to mind, my brain wanders back home. I wonder if the reason Jareth brought me here was because of all the drama that Samuel's relationship with me had caused. There were three other girls that were quite upset, including a girl who had been his "best friend". A guy friend of Samuel and mine had been hurt too, though he tried not to show it, and it killed me hurting him. I remembered often that I had wished to get away from all the drama for a while, all the humans, and just be in solitude for a while.

Trust an older brother to be listening in on your private wishes.

One thing that Jareth didn't seem to understand was that when humans make wishes, especially subconsciously, they often don't mean them.

Oh well, I think to myself, as I rise up off the bed, May as well get some work in while I'm here.

Over the years I had grown quite close to the head gardener-goblin, a lovely (for a goblin) old woman by the name of Glubula. She's too old and arthritic to work much any more, but she knows more than any other goblin in the Labyrinth about plants. And she knows every plant in the Labyrinth. She has many gardener-goblins under her, and takes great pleasure in ordering them around. And even though my human fingers are large and clumsy compared to the smaller goblin ones, she never hesitates to put me to work either.

So I went in search of her, and was soon in charge of weeding the rose bushes. It was an ideal task for a human, as the roses in the Labyrinth are quite a bit larger (thorns and all) than ones in the human world, and the thorns can be quite lethal to the smaller goblins. To me they are perfectly harmless aside from a shallow scratch, so the other gardeners are visibly relieved that I got stuck with the job.

At first, my muscles complain with the labor, but as the exercise releases the endorphins into my system, I grow more cheerful. It is nice to get away from the drama in the human world, though in the back of my mind I sense Jareth might just cause more of it. However, these thoughts are soon pushed from my mind, and I become absorbed in my work.

I'm almost finished when I hear heavy boots walking towards me. Too heavy for little goblin feet, that's for sure. Memories from hours earlier flood back into my mind, and I grit my teeth.

Jareth had taken me quite unexpectedly from my church. It was a Wednesday night service, and I had just given Samuel a hug goodbye. When I opened the door and stepped through, I had found myself in the room Jareth had imprisoned me in. When I turned to try to go back through the door, I had found it locked. Then Jareth and I had had our little shouting match…

"And what, may I ask, are you doing, ruining your hands with that toil?" his imperious tone surprises me, but I don't let it show.

"Oh great ruler of the Labyrinth," I say sarcastically, "I only wish to be of service to your people, and to myself by working in this lowly garden of yours."

Behind Jareth I can hear goblins giggling, but they are silenced when he turns and glares at the suddenly still hedge. He turns back to me, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh come on," I say, "It's good exercise, and good busywork, to keep my mind off things. It's been quite relaxing."

Silently, Jareth kneels next to me. It's only then I notice he's wearing his grubbiest riding pants. He reaches into the rose bush I am closest to and pulls out a weed from close to the heart of it. Pulling back, he hands me the weed to put in my pile on the garden path, though his hand is now bleeding from a thorn wound.

Momentarily speechless, I turn to see that all of the weeds had gone from the patch. Sighing, I gather up the ones on the path, and begin walking away from Jareth, to put them pile to burn with the trash.

"Ichobana, I've been meaning to ask you" I hear from next to me. Jareth has silently joined me in my trek to the burn pile. "What is it that you see in that…boy?"

Right, subtlety is Jareth's middle name.

"Why do you need to know?"

"As your brother figure, I would assume that I should fulfill the responsibility of protecting you, however difficult that task might be on occasion."

My face burns. I know he is referring to the fall, when I had been nearly raped and murdered by escaped convicts.

"Because you of course need to _protect_ me from perfectly nice guys like Samuel," I say sarcastically.

Jareth is so free with his moods that I can practically feel his anger flash. "Why else would I ask?" he says bitingly.

"I think you're jealous," I shoot back, the peace of working in the garden momentarily forgotten. We've reached the burn pile. I throw the weeds down, and turn to face him, hands on hips. "Look, just because I've known you since I was six doesn't mean you can tell me who I can and can't get in a relationship with. You don't even know him!"

His anger is barely restrained now. "Ichobana, you know fully well that I wouldn't approve of your cavorting with anyone, even if they were one of my own subjects, unless–"

But he has to stop because I have burst out laughing. "Your subjects?" I giggle, "Jareth, they're not even remotely _human_."

"Only during the day," he reminds me. "At night they are as human as I am."

"Well, you're not exactly _homo sapien_ yourself," I say, still giggling. "The only reason you're human 24/7 is because someone has to control them when they're not in their human minds. And what has this got to do with you being jealous?"

His face colors slightly, so I know I have hit home somewhere. Signing, he runs his hand through his wild mane of blonde hair. "You told me once," he said, "That…"

I see that the time for silliness is over. I think back to nearly two years ago, when I had –ahem– helped Jareth get over his flighty infatuation with Sarah Williams. I had been fifteen then, and was seventeen now.

"Jareth," I say quietly, "I don't think I ever said that I cared for you as more than a brother. And if I did hint at it, you must remember that I have grown up quite a lot in a short period of time, unlike what you're used to. I was younger. Now I'm closer to being an adult. And Samuel is even closer to being an adult than I am. My mind works differently from yours, O goblin king."

With that, I smile at him.

He sighs again. "Alright," he says, resigned. But then something changes in his face, and I shudder. It's his mischievous face he's put on now, which almost always means trouble.

"Oh, no," I say, "Jareth, what are you–!"

But he's gone, and the faint sound of his laughter rings in my ears.

XxXxX

When I wake, I'm back in my own bed in the human world. I look at the alarm clock, which had woken me by playing David Bowie music at the loud volume it takes to get me up in the morning. It's Thursday morning.

I groan and roll over, but don't turn the music off. I'm going to get seriously ill one of these days. It can't be good for the human body to constantly live out entire days in one world that never existed in the other.

The school day goes by quite as normal, with only a few comments on the scratches (nearly healed) on my hands that hadn't existed the day before. Samuel didn't go to my school, so I had to wait until after the school day was over to communicate with him.

When I flipped open my phone when I got home, there was only one unread text message waiting for me. It was from Sam:

**Icho u didnt tell me u were engaged!**

At first, I'm confused. Where on earth did he get such a notion? But of course, as I think on it, it's obvious. Angrily, I mash the letters in reply:

**Im not. Im not even old enough!**

Sighing, I resign myself to homework. It isn't long before my phone vibrates in my pocket. Samuel again.

**Omg this guy came up to me today after school and told me he was ur fiancée.**

It feels like my stomach has turned to lead. Even though I know perfectly well, I respond:

**What did he look like?**

Samuel's response was a rather exact description of Jareth. Angrily, I throw the cell phone into my pillow, then grab the pillow to hold it over my mouth as I yell Jareth's name. That way my parents wouldn't hear me, but the goblin king certainly would.

"Now, now, Icho," he says as I feel his weight on my bed.

I glare at him. "You sure got over me quickly."

He grins. "Like you said, our minds don't work quite the same way." And not giving me any more explanation, he leaves.

Groaning, I pick up my phone and text Samuel.

**Im not engaged. That's my adopted bro. Hes a bit protective, specially since he graduated college and moved across the country. Dont listen to him. Hes going home today.**

It's the best explanation I can think of.

When he texts back, I think it's funny how Samuel's relief is palpable even through his texted reply, and invitation to dinner tomorrow night. Although I don't see exactly why he's so relieved. He's taller than Jareth, and plays basketball, so they might be equally matched. However, then I remember that since Jareth isn't human, and has a lot of powers, most humans feel a natural fear of him, even when he disguises himself as one. It's instinctual; I've come to believe.

I only hope that he doesn't try to make a surprise visit during my date with Samuel.


	4. Of Soup Kitchens and Lewd Conversation

There is an illustration for this story! yay! haha you know the drill, or if you don't go to ichobanarose. deviantart. com (look for the piece titled "Jareth visits the Soup Kitchen") OR go to my profile and there will be a direct link!

**Of Soup Kitchens and Lewd Conversation**

Have you ever grated cheese? It's rather monotonous, and a workout if you do it enough. Now, imagine a block of cheese bigger than your head, and being told you have to grate all of it.

It makes you wish for strange things.

I and three of the girls in my class are working at the soup kitchen for Missions Emphasis Week, and three of us including me, are grating enough cheese to last three hundred people two days. Not kidding. The last of us, Autumn, is breaking the cheese blocks into smaller pieces so we can grate them.

I think I'm about half way through my huge block when the wish escapes my lips. It's times like these I wish mouths were equipped with a backspace button, but it's too late. I know, with a sinking feeling, that nothing good will come of this cheese grating-induced wish.

It doesn't take him long. In less than five minutes, I hear the front door open. I'm in the kitchen, still grating, and my heart sinks like lead.

"Good morning, sir!" another worker calls cheerfully. His name is Jonathon; he acts as head "chef" of the soup kitchen. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm part of the school working here today," his musical tones reach my ears. It's a good thing my classmates are too occupied with their cheese-grating and block-breaking, otherwise they would have caught the unfamiliar voice.

"Very good!" calls a female worker, "The girls are in the kitchen, I'm sure they can find something for you to do."

"Thank you." I imagine he sweeps a polite bow to the people preparing food out front, and he comes in the direction of the kitchen.

"Who's here?" Mary, the girl grating next to me, asks.

"I don't know," answers Amanda, on the other side of Mary.

Autumn, who is facing the other way and who can see out front from her position, only stares.

Jareth, the goblin king, strides into the kitchen as if he owns the place. To my astonishment, he's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and Converse shoes cover his feet. His hair, although messy, is not nearly as wild as I had last seen it, and is pulled back into a ponytail.

"Icho, why don't you introduce me to your friends," he suggests, his eyes locking onto mine first.

I sigh, again wishing for the backspace on my mouth. "Uh…James…" I don't want to give them his real name, as it's rather uncommon in our world, "This is Mary, Amanda, and Autumn." I indicate each girl separately, "Guys, this is James."

"A pleasure to meet you," he says, and sweeps a bow.

The girls look at me, eyebrows raised. I can see their thoughts in their faces: "What a freak…"

"_James_, can I talk to you for a second?" I ask, glaring at him.

He shrugs, hiding his smirk, and follows me to the empty back room of the kitchen. Just before we go in, I see that another girl from my school has arrived, Ashley, and she's taken over my place grating cheese.

The back room of the kitchen is a bit chilly, since the walk-in refrigerator is back here, and lit by fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. There is no door, so I lower my voice to speak of Underground matters.

"Jareth, what are you doing here?" I hiss.

"You were the one who wished for my presence…"

I knew he was going to say that. I sigh, exasperated. What do you do with a goblin king who's found his way to a soup kitchen?

"It doesn't count if I didn't mean it," I say, "You try grating enough cheese for three hundred people, and see what it makes you wish for."

The goblin king chuckles. "A wish is a wish, no matter its intention or lack thereof."

I groan. I can see his point. Of course, I hadn't seen him since his escapade of getting between me and Samuel, so I figured his motives for coming here weren't based merely on my errant wishes.

"How are things with that human boy?" Jareth asks, reading my thoughts on my face.

I take his bait and change the subject. "Oh, the same as they ever were. Just friends. He decided he liked some other chick named Ansley, so I stay out of the way."

His grin makes me glare at him suspiciously, but I figure if I ask him if he had anything to do with my relationship status he would give me a long and cryptic answer that would puzzle me for hours. Thirteen hours, most likely.

"Alright, well, as long as you're here…" I see my chance to get back at him and snap at it. "You might as well make yourself useful. We have three hundred hungry people to feed today, so grab an apron."

A look of astonishment crosses his face, but he rises to my challenge and accepts an apron. At that moment, the man running the kitchen comes into the back and grabs "James" to help him with mixing salads. As I return to the girls, knowing I will have to face loads of awkward questions about the newcomer, I sincerely hope that Jareth doesn't get glitter in the food.

When I get back, the cheese is nearly gone and my classmates and I – excluding "James" of course – are put to work filling Styrofoam cups with angel food cake and canned fruit. We organize into a system (Ashley slices the cakes, Autumn and I break up the slices to put into the cups, and Amanda and Mary spoon the fruit into the cups on top) and then the questions begin.

"Who is that guy?" Ashley asks me, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Old family friend," I say. Jareth has put me in a surly mood. "I told him we were helping out here, and he wanted to come too."

"Is he married?" Autumn asks me, "Cuz he's hot."

The rest of us burst out laughing, but the other three agree, he is hot. Despite my mood, I open my mouth to tell them just how "hot" of a singing voice he has, but I catch myself at the last second, and ask Ashley to turn up the iPod plugged into the iHome behind me. Some pop ballad is on, I don't' recognize it.

As the other girls chatter about the attractiveness of so-and-so's boyfriends, my mind wanders back to Jareth. I wonder if the goblins have any sort of "soup kitchen" for their hungry, or even if there is a need for such things in the Underground. This makes me wonder if it was such a good idea putting Jareth to work after all. I don't know if he's ever had to work around food, or around the homeless. These thoughts gnaw at my gut as I work, carefully tearing angel food cake into cups.

At eleven, the soup kitchen officially opens to the public. We are sent to the front, and line up behind a table pull of platters of food. Jareth, of course, carefully maneuvers himself to be next to me (Mary is thrilled because she's on his other side). To my surprise, there is a smile on his face. He notices my shock and grins at me.

"Goblins need help in times of need as well," he says, "I've supervised many a project to keep my subjects happy. Otherwise they revolt, and that's just a mess."

I roll my eyes, and turn to smile at the first guest in line as I plop a healthy serving of potato and (grated) cheese casserole onto his plate. The man smiles in return, revealing missing teeth, but I've seen worse. Apparently so has Jareth, for he isn't fazed a bit as he serves green beans to the same man. Although this shouldn't surprise me. I've seen many goblins in my lifetime, and most of them don't understand the concept of hygiene.

As the plates and faces pass, I begin to wonder if this endeavor of putting Jareth to work isn't backfiring on me. Jareth seems to be getting everything he wants. Complements on his being a "strong, handsome young man" by all the ladies present, old and young; time in close quarters with me, which he uses to his advantage as he "accidentally" brushes my arm while serving; and a chance to show off his inherent grace in everything he attempts. This bothers me immensely, though I know it's my fault for accidentally inviting him here in the first place.

"So how are things in your home while you're gone?" I ask casually, wondering what the goblins do while their king is away.

"Ah, well, they aren't aware that I'm gone," he said, "My – family – is used to me locking myself up in my rooms when I'm in a foul mood, so they won't miss me."

Suddenly, I see a familiar car pull up, and my face splits into a grin. The woman coming in is like nothing Jareth has ever seen.

He's remarkably observant, and I hear suspicion in his voice as he asks, "And what's got you in such a good mood?"

"Sister Happy is comin' y'all!" Mary calls, and we all burst into giggles.

"Jareth," I say as the woman reaches the door, "This is Sister Happy."

Jareth doesn't have time to react to my devilish glee. This is my revenge for his popping up unwanted for the day.

The door bursts open and a large black woman in a gaudy but still kinda cool hat dances in, singing, "This is the day that the Lord has made! Praise Jesus, oh he's so good!" The woman known – for good reason – as Sister Happy dances her way right up to the serving line, and while she waits for her food, she talks to us. She knows we girls, but Jareth is a familiar face. Maybe I should have warned him, but I'm enjoying this.

"Oh my girls! Who is this fine young man here? James? Well it's nice to meet you James, I'm Sister Happy or they call me that for some reason, haha! Let me tell you, the Lord is so good to me! Have the girls told you my story? Well, let me just tell you, it's only because of the Lord that I am here today! Because there was this old man that hit my in the side of my car with his truck, and I coulda been squished like a bug but I'm not, and it's all thanks to Jesus! And he also saved me from cancer, hallelujah praise him! Because they found cancer in me when I went to have my mammogram, and they told me they would have to take off my breasts, and honey it scared me! I put off the surgery for months! But ooh, let me tell you they gave me new ones, yes sir! And the Lord told me, don't you get no Dolly Parton sized boobs, ya hear? And they didn't give me them, praise Jesus!"

At this point, Jonathon hurries Sister happy along, since there are a few people standing behind her in line. Still giggling, I poke Jareth a few times to get him to put green beans on the plates for the newcomers. His face seems frozen in pure terror and shock, and he takes the plates from me in a mechanical motion. The other girls are laughing at him, too. We love Sister Happy, her pure joy and pure faith, but we've also realized just how much of a shock it can be to someone who hasn't met her, and who isn't used to bringing up boobs in regular conversation.

When the line dies down again, "James" turns to me. His face is unfrozen, now just shock remains. I laugh delightedly, which causes him to blink a couple of times in amazement.

"She has…" he stumbles for words, catches himself, and trips over his tongue again. "Amazing faith," he manages finally.

"Yep," I say, grinning, "She's a walking blessing and lesson to us all. Always be happy, no matter what you're going through, and always have faith. However…"

Jareth blushes. It amazes me. I had always thought that, ladies man that he parades himself to be, he would be more used to lewd conversation. But apparently he's more innocent than I thought.

Having come to this revelation, I burst out laughing again, to Jareth's embarrassment.

By the time the soup kitchen closes at twelve-thirty, Jareth's dignity has been challenged more times than I can count. Sister Happy has again told him a story, this time about Jesus getting her off "marijuaner" and helping her quit smoking. Later I have to explain to him what she meant. Exhausted, I throw my apron into the dirty clothes hamper and kick back in a chair, relaxing until someone gets here to pick up Mary and let me follow them to the park where we're eating lunch. At first, Jareth is interested in going, wanting to see more of life in my world. But then I carefully explain to him that we high school kids are still under the authority of teachers who wouldn't approve of his presence, and that my work for the afternoon involves me babysitting twenty children at the local Boys and Girls club. Then he seems quite content with going back to his castle.

However, before he leaves, he hands me my cell phone. At least, I think it's my cell phone, until in my hands it transforms into one of his crystal orbs. You know, the kind that a) he can spy on you with and b) you can communicate with him through.

"Call me when you're finished working," he says cheerfully, then kisses my forehead. Immediately my heart accelerates, and my strength is replenished and I feel strong enough to dance.

"Thanks," I whisper to the crystal before pocketing it and climbing into my car.

**a/n: you will NEVER guess where I first got the idea for this installment...**


	5. Just Listen

**a/n: it is short and very, very fluffy. O_o**

I've bought a truck. It is an almost brand-new dark red pickup truck, and I love it. It is in much better shape than the car I'd had with me when I'd been surprised by the two convicts at the farm I work at. The truck is also much safer and more conducive to heavy work.

In a word, it's beautiful.

So my annoyance at the spraying of yellow pollen by the trees in my yard, followed by a shower of rain not hard enough to wash it off, is understandable. Especially since the "rain" just caked the pollen on into a yellow crust. It's disgusting to look at. So I beg my mom for a few bucks and take the new truck – which I've only had a few days – to the car wash.

When I get in to begin the drive, the pollen is so caked to the windshield I can't see. It takes several seconds of spraying the built-in washer fluid and almost a minute of windshield-wiper action to get the stuff off. I comfort myself, knowing that soon the thing will be totally clean again.

Hoping for some comfort from music, I pop an 80's mix CD into the player, taking it from my CD case I keep in the compartment on the backside of the middle seat of the cab. The cab only has three seats, and the middle one folds down to form a table, or you can open it and store things in it. After situating the CDs, I close the compartment, and shove the seat up, so my purse can be right next to me instead of down in the floor or way over in the passenger's seat. Satisfied and with Bon Jovi blaring, I start off.

The car wash isn't far away, but I feel subconscious about the state of my new, beautiful truck as I drive. That is, until I see other cars in the same condition. School is out, so there are groups of students putting their cars through washes too, though they wash theirs by hand at the station in groups to hang out and talk. No one is with me, so I opt instead for the automatic car wash. The girls in my school haven't stopped bothering me about a certain "hot" blonde man who had turned up to work with me at the soup kitchen, so it's good for me to get some time alone.

I pay the machine and drive in. Suddenly, a great feeling of dread falls over me, and I look around suspiciously. I know there is no one else in the small cab, but I can't see anything in the bed of the truck aside from the toolbox. Shivering, I turn back to face the front and turn up the music, this time a love ballad called "Never Say Goodbye" also by Bon Jovi. I close my eyes and try to force myself to relax, imagining swaying in the arms of someone I love to the music. At the exact moment when the first of the pounding water hits the vehicle, the image of the man in my dreams turns into a certain goblin king, and I gasp and open my eyes.

Lo and behold, Jareth is suddenly sitting in the passenger seat of my truck.

Needless to say, I am shocked. I press myself up against the driver's side door, for a moment entertaining the thought of opening it and taking off. But I am reluctant to enter the forceful spray that drenches my truck.

"How did you get in here?" I cry.

Jareth, unperturbed by my behavior, lounges quite comfortably in the roomy seat and appears to examine his fingernails. He's once again dressed in the garb on my world, with his wild mane of hair barely and reluctantly contained in a ponytail.

"Jareth," I growl, "I most certainly did _not_ wish you here." I have to raise my voice above the spraying water.

He holds up a hand for me to be silent. I glare at him.

Finally, the heavy water is replaced by a much gentler and quieter spray of soap, and Jareth speaks.

"Is it wrong for me to want to visit you?" He asks in his deceivingly innocent way.

I narrow my eyes, and say nothing.

He moves closer to me, casually draping his arm over the back of the seat. His fingertips brush my shoulder. "I was merely wondering how you were doing," he said, "And when I looked in the crystal I saw nothing but darkness and water. Naturally I wanted to investigate."

I raised my eyebrow. "It's just a car wash," I said, "You've seen them before."

"But not this vehicle," he prompts. He's just fishing for excuses, I can tell.

Sighing, I turn up the music. There is a setting on my truck's stereo equalizer for "Super Bass" and I use it frequently. Jareth furrows his eyebrows.

"The water adds something to the music," he says as the scrubbers descend to scrub my pollen-encrusted vehicle clean. "It makes it…more passionate, somehow."

I'd had no idea that Jareth liked the 80's. Particularly rock ballads. "Well, yeah," I reply, feeling more comfortable now that the conversation topic is no longer me. "That's part of the reason I came through the automatic wash instead of hand-washing it."

Jareth nods. There is silence except for Pat Benatar's "Heartbreaker". Something is wrong. I realize that the scrubbers have frozen, water and soap still pouring down the sides of my car. The car wash has stopped completely.

"What did you do?" I growl to Jareth, certain that he or his subjects have had a hand in breaking the car wash machinery.

Suddenly my purse is no more in the middle seat. Jareth is, and he leans close to my face.

"So suddenly you jump to blame me," he purrs, "Why the hostility?"

"Well, because you sort of have a history of breaking modern appliances to get your way," I say, backing towards the truck door. "Light switches…clocks…"

There is no escape for me as Jareth leans even closer, so that his arms are braced on the truck door and his forehead rests against mine. I'm trapped. My body betrays me as it leans towards his warm breath mingling with mine. Stupid hormones.

"Well, I must admit, I _had_ planned on spending some quality time with you," he says, smirking. "But I rather think it was fate that generously pushed things in my favor. I had no idea that this would happen, but it seems to me to be a benefit, wouldn't you say?"

My breath hitches in my throat and I'm unable to speak as he plants a kiss on my cheek. But he doesn't stop there. He moves slowly to kissing my ear, leaving a trail of soft kisses behind. My blood feels as if it's boiling in my veins, yet I'm frozen. My heart pounds so loud I'm sure that Jareth can hear it audibly as he remains nearly on top of me.

"This is…totally out of line, Jareth…" I say haltingly. I've suddenly lost my ability to think clearly, which is rather annoying.

"Shh…" he whispers, moving his lips to brush against mine. His breath rolls in a warm wave over my face, causing my heart to want to escape from its cage and explode out of me.

But suddenly the image comes – unbidden – to mind of being in a different car, in a different setting, with quite a different man on top of me. My gasp is all it takes for Jareth to rocket himself back to the passenger seat, away from me.

I curl into a ball as for a few moments I relive the horror of the convict that found me a few months ago at my work, who had held a knife to my throat as he grabbed for the fastener on my jeans. I barely notice the tears streaming down my face as I'm transported back to the farm, back to where there are still black marks on the ground where Jareth called lightning out of the sky to take care of the two criminals.

I barely flinch when an arm comes around my shoulders. This is the Jareth I know. My Jareth hums along with the music – I didn't know he knew this song – and rubs my shoulder. Finally I gain the strength to look up at him. He looks genuinely sorry in his multicolored eyes. He smiles at me.

The stereo is now blasting "C'mon Feel The Noize" by Quiet Riot. The scrubbers are still frozen, but I can hear people outside running around trying to fix them.

"You need to get married," I growl to the goblin king beside me, "Find someone else to take out your sexual tension on."

To my surprise, he laughs. However, his face does turn slightly pink, to my satisfaction.

"Funny that you of all people should say that," he says.

This remark causes the cliché butterflies to appear in my stomach. I hug myself, hoping to squish them. It doesn't work. "Is that so?" I ask to dissipate the silence.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Because, of course I have absolutely no care for you," he says, "After taking care of you all those years, healing you from death itself, rescuing you from those vile men a few months ago, and helping you serve your people, I haven't learned to care for you even one bit. Not at all."

"But that's so cruel…" I say, realizing he's being sarcastic and playing along.

He raises an eyebrow at me, and smirks.

Then we both jump as the scrubbers suddenly begin turning, and the washing of my truck is resumed. Jareth's arm is still around me.

"Well it seems as if this particular chapter is about to end," he sighs, pulling me closer.

I nod. The butterflies are leading a revolution in protest to their fallen brethren, and have come back in greater numbers than before.

"Perhaps we shall end it in the old-fashioned, overused, terribly romantic way?" Jareth asks hopefully, looking at me sideways.

"Meaning…?" I am confused.

He smiles and shakes his head. Then his hand slides up my arm to the back of my head and he turns me to face him. He's very close. _Now_ I understand.

"Oh," is all I can say before he presses his lips to mine. Then I quite forget whether I want to kill him or not.


	6. Nightmares

**a/n: I know, I need more ideas for this story...**

**Nightmares  
**

I bolt upright in bed, breathing hard. The horrifying images that tortured me behind my eyelids now dance before me in the darkness, so I hurriedly jump up and hit the light switch. Immediately, the room is flooded with the warm light of the light bulb. The ceiling fan also begins to turn, helping to cool my overheated body.

Do you ever have those sort of nightmares? Where it seems as though every frightening image you've seen in the past, whether it be on TV or on a movie or you read it in a book, combines with every childhood nightmare you had and comes back to haunt you? These are the kinds of nightmares that cause you to shake slightly as you go to sleep, burying yourself in the covers with the hope that maybe the bad dreams can't find you if you cover your head with the blankets. You thrash and moan and turn in your sleep, and wake up sweaty because of the fear that is rushing through you.

This is what I am in the process of recovering from. I lean against the wall, running my hand through my hair. It's damp. I'm wide awake, due to the adrenaline that has yet to leave my system, but at the same time weary.

The nightmares are getting worse.

Sighing, I lean back against the cool wall and dare to close my eyes.

"Icho, what in heaven's name –?"

My eyes fly open and I see Jareth standing before me, clothed only in loose, knee-length breeches. He looks about as surprised as I am.

"Jareth, what are you doing here?" I demand, not bothering to speak softly. My parents are out of town; I'm alone in the house. "And why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Not that I'm exactly complaining…

"You woke me," he says, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. "What exactly did you summon me for at such an hour?"

"But…I didn't summon you…"

Both of us are extremely confused. My room is on the smallish side, so I have to scoot around Jareth to sit on the bed. As he turns to let me through, he catches sight of the clock on my stereo.

"Icho," he asks me, "Why on earth are _you_ awake at this hour?"

I bite my lip. I guess I should tell the truth. "Nightmares."

He's concerned. "About what?"

Now, as a lot of people who know me will tell you, I'm not much of a talker when I'm tired. And I'm often grumpy when not having gotten enough sleep. So it's really not my fault for being short-fused with Jareth. After all, he was the one intruding here.

"It was probably about you," I say, scowling at him. "I was probably screaming at you in my dream and you mistook it for me summoning you."

Most people would be hurt by this, but the goblin king is only curious. "Why would you be so angry with me?"

"You have to ask?"

"Quite honestly, Icho, I don't understand this at all. I mean I can understand you being perturbed that I've appeared here against your wishes, but it was you who summoned me, whether you were conscious or not. What have I done to deserve your venom?"

I can see he's sincerely asking, so I sigh and turn to face another direction. "You left me," I say. "Like, after you kissed me, you just left. The last time I saw you was like forever ago. At the car wash. So what did you just take off after you got what you wanted? Why is it that every man in my life just wants to take advantage of me?" A tear falls from my eye. I wipe it away, frustrated, hoping Jareth didn't see it.

He comes and sits on the bed with me, too close. I stiffen, feeling the heat radiate from his bare (and muscular) torso. He doesn't notice my reaction to his closeness. Instead he gazes into my eyes, the blue and brown orbs still concerned.

"Tell me what your nightmare was about," he implores.

Thinking back, I instinctively pull the covers around myself securely. It's a warm summer night, but the safety of being covered overrules the comfort of coolness.

Jareth sees this, and he furrows his eyebrows. "It's been nearly two and a half years," he says, "You were sixteen then, you're eighteen now. You're still having nightmares about those men?"

He's referring to two escaped convicts that had tried to rape and murder me when I stumbled upon their hiding place when I was sixteen. Another tear falls from my eye as I nod.

"Have you…talked to anyone about that experience?"

I frown at him. "Well, my parents wanted me to go to counseling, but I wouldn't let them send me," I say. "I'd lied enough to the police about the events of that day, I didn't want to lie to a shrink. Besides, they can only help you if you tell them the truth. They'd lock me up if I told them anything about you."

He can't argue with that. "You could have talked to me," he says, "If you were overly traumatized or had nightmares or some such."

"You?" I scoff. "Jareth, you've got this break-the-car-wash-to-get-a-kiss-and-then-take-off-and-don't-come-back thing going on. Why would I want to talk to someone who's going to kiss and leave?"

He takes my face in his hands. "Icho," he says seriously. "You know that I would never let anyone ever hurt you. And if I've hurt you, well then I don't deserve to be here right now."

"Bit late for that," I sniff, and then stifle a yawn.

"You need to go back to sleep," Jareth says, and moves away from me. "You're exhausted."

I glance at the clock. "Probably just have the same nightmare again," I mutter bitterly.

The goblin king scoots over again and puts his arms around me. He's so warm. "Would you like me to stay and comfort you?"

"Ew, no thanks," I say, pushing him away. "Already had enough of you taking advantage of me. Already had enough of _everyone_ taking advantage of me. It's gonna happen in my dreams again, no point in having it occur in real life."

Still, the tears threaten to return as Jareth moves away. His face is unreadable.

"Well," he says, "I guess I should be going then."

Shrinking away from the thought of having to face the rest of the night alone, I gather myself. "Jareth, wait."

He turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

I look down, ashamed. "I mean, it's just that my parents are out and…and well, you're not fully clothed and…"

"Am I?"

I look up. Jareth now has a flowing white poet shirt on over his breeches. I guess there is something in my face that speaks of my fear of the nightmare returning, for his face softens and he comes back to the bedside.

"Just…don't wanna be alone," I mumble.

Without speaking, the goblin king gathers me into his arms and we both curl up in the bed. His body is curved protectively around mine so that I can feel him breathing behind me. He kisses my hair once.

"Sleep, my dear Icho," he breathes.

Immediately, peace floods me and the softest clouds surround me. I barely notice that Jareth has turned off the lights as I drift into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.


End file.
